Listen to the wise woman…

Mini mamapriestess sculpture I made to take with me for my medicine bundle.

Last summer after I finished my priestess certification and I’d been facilitating women’s retreats for two years, I got a wild idea to go to a womanspirit or goddess festival of some kind. I did a google search and found one that sounded great—the Gaea Goddess Gathering–and it was happening in just two weeks. Imagine my surprise to then look at the bottom of the screen and see that it was located only a five-hour drive from me, just over the border into Kansas. I decided it was “meant to be.” My mom and a friend signed up with me (and Alaina) and we packed up my van and went! The night before we left on our adventure, I sat down at the kitchen table and felt a knife-like stinging pain on the back of my leg. I’d accidentally sat on a European giant hornet (these are not regular hornets, they are literally giant hornets about two inches long).

Sting before I left.

Though it became hot and swollen and terribly painful, we set forth anyway. I asked for input on Facebook and did google research and started putting benadryl cream on it, even though I usually go with home remedies over medical-model remedies. It got worse and worse, eventually running from my hip to my knee and wrapped around my entire leg so
that two thirds of my thigh was sting-area and the difference in size between my legs was noticeable through clothing. During the festival, as I watched myself get worse and worse and people kept making remarks about needing epi-pens and maybe I should go to the hospital, I decided to dispense with the benadryl and listen to the wise women instead. My friend found plantain and made me a poultice. The cook gave me baking soda that I applied in a paste. I went to a ceremony that involved a healing ritual with sound and a priestess in a tent beat a drum over me as I lay there on my stomach. After a little Reiki healing, she then leaned very, very close to my ear and said quietly, “are you taking good enough care of yourself? You give and give and it is time to receive. You need to be taken care of too.” And, I cried.

Sting after arriving. I didn’t take any pictures of it at the worst. It got about twice as bad as this. Every time I thought it could not possible get worse, it got twice as bad!

I came out of the tent and laid on a bench and women I didn’t know came and put their hands on my back and made me tinctures of strange plants they found in the herb garden and I drank it even though it almost made me gag. Another woman I didn’t know rubbed my back and though I couldn’t even see her face, she leaned close to my ear and said, “sometimes life stings you. Your friends, your family, being a parent, taking care of your children. It stings sometimes. Things people say without meaning to sting you. You’re sensitive, Sometimes it stings a lot and you worry that you’re not good enough. I see you with your baby. You are such a good mother.” And, I cried again, lying there on bench in the middle of nowhere with my dress pulled up and my red, sore, swollen, horrible thigh covered with a poultice of mysterious weeds, surrounded by women I didn’t know, but who were caring for me. And, I got better. By the time I got home, the sting was almost totally healed.

As soon as I returned home, I made a list, intending to develop it into a blog post about everything I’d learned at this gathering of women. The list languished in my drafts folder and the wheel of the year continued to turn and now it is September again and next week, some friends and I will be hopping back in my van and heading back to the GGG for this year’s festival. I decided the blog post will never get “developed” into the post I had intended, but that I can still share my list anyway. I also realized that I have been reluctant to post it here for fear of being too “weird” and alienating readers. But, Talk Birth is like a buffet, you can take what works for you and leave the rest! 😉 I’m also writing now because I’m going to go ahead and give myself a week off from blogging and I wanted to post some sort of explanation as to why. I’m going to focus on getting ready for the festival (I’m selling jewelry while there too!) and hanging out with my family (and, oh yeah, grading all the papers that are due this Sunday night!).

So, what did I learn at the GGG?

I have a lot to learn
Likewise, I know more than I give myself credit for—I am both more skilled than I may think and less skilled than I’d like to be.
I want to be more confident
I need to always remember to look for a wise woman when I need help. And, that allowing myself to be cared for by strangers is a surprisingly powerful experience.
I am much more quickly judgmental than I realized or like to admit—I judge the book by its cover and assess “worth” by appearance more often than I thought and I disappointed myself with that. I learned that ALL women have hidden gifts and I was surprised over and over again what people had to offer, that their appearance might not have suggested.
My body knows how to heal (I’ve learned this before, also from a bug)
It was great to have just one-on-one time with Alaina. She just wants to be with me. I didn’t have to cook/do laundry or anything else. I just toted her around which is exactly what she needs/wants (*note from this year: she still wants exactly this and I’m looking forward to giving it to her).
My mom is incredibly creatively gifted. And, I’m lucky to be around so many creative women in my own community. They have awesome gifts!
I don’t need to do everything—other people have their own talents and I don’t have to “do it all,” all of the time.
But by the same token, I don’t have to be good at everything and it is still okay to do things and be bad at them, but still try. (However, it also good to let other people have their specialties/share their gifts. I don’t have to do it all.)
I can be open to receive.
I can be a singer! Perform in a group! Feel awesome!
Once this started, I knew I’d made the right choice to come after all!
Ditto drummer!
Explanation of the two points above which also connect to the one about not having to do everything and yet it also being okay to try. One of the sessions at the festival was the “GGG Soul Singers.” One of the women taught a large group of us several cool songs. During the special dinner that night, we got up together with sound equipment and everything and performed our songs. Everyone was yelling and cheering and clapping and it was great. So much fun! I’m a terrible singer, I know that, but that night I felt like I was amazing. And, I learned that being terrible at something doesn’t mean you can’t do it anyway and enjoy yourself. I’m looking forward to doing this again this year! At this festival I was captivated by these massive community drums the women had. Large enough to be played by four or even more women at once, I absolutely loved them. Even though I didn’t know what I was doing, I tried, and discovered I could indeed do it. I could drum and sing and keep up with the group. When I got home, I decided I must have a drum like this and spent way too much money and ordered one online. And, even though I’m tone-deaf and “non-musical,” I can play it. And, I’m still amazing, whether I really am or not!
I felt both more and less competent—related to knowing a lot and yet having a lot to learn, I discovered that I’m a pretty good ceremonialist, a lot better than I’d given myself credit for, but that some other people are way better than me (and others are not. What matters is trying).
Intense stairs from the dining hall and lodging to the “ridge” where ceremonies took place. Navigating these was NO FUN with that sting on my leg! But, isn’t tiny Alaina cute setting off on her own and heading on up?!
I was acknowledged/recognized as priestess/clergy to my own circle of women and it felt very good to be seen in that way. I’m trying to be/offer/bring something to the local area that still feels tender and vulnerable in myself. I lack some confidence. Want to build it! And, yet, I do it anyway. I’m brave! Maybe I’m not as skilled or musical or awesome as I could be, but I’m pretty darn good and…at least I TRY!
Want family to be clear priority. Family harmony is a top goal. I want to make sure to give them my good stuff too! Don’t save my passion and enthusiasm for “others” only!

When I got home from this festival, I was so inspired that I planned and facilitated a pretty great nighttime, firelit “sagewoman” ceremony in a teepee (with drumming on my new community drum) for the wise women of my own community. As a ritualist/ceremonialist, I learned from the GGG-experience that ambiance really, really matters in offering a cool ritual.

Since last year, I’ve developed my ceremonialist skills even further and last month received an additional supplemental ordination from the American Priestess Council. I’m almost three years into my D.Min program, I’ve taken advanced coursework in ritual design as well as pastoral counseling, liturgy, the role of the priestess, ethics, history, and so forth. At this time last year, I was struggling with whether or not it was “okay” for me to own the Priestess identity I felt “called” into and at the GGG I was seen and heard into this identity particularly by my friend and also by my mom. It turns out it is okay for me to serve others as a Priestess and to claim that title with authenticity even though I’m not as perfect and amazing as I feel like I should be (I’m also a blogger for SageWoman magazine and I’m currently working on a post called who does she think SHE is, that is about exactly this tension).

Some more pictures:

Henna feet! From the woman who did this for me, I learned the phrase: “sparkles are my favorite color.”

Medicine bundle! This was the best class ever. The woman brought piles and piles of random and awesome stuff and it was all free to choose what you wanted for your bundle. How cool is this face?!

She also had simple clay goddesses for us to paint and attach as well as we could.

Pensive little Lainey looking back thoughtfully at the stairs up which she just journeyed.

Back home demo’ing a beautiful sarong gifted to my by my seeing friend!

What’s this…

…I hear…big DRUMS!

When I got home, I was inspired to make some new sculptures and Mark cut a lovely gemstone and made a pendant.

Here I go again! I wonder what lessons await me this year…

Of Coconut Oil and Maternal Shame

Jun29

“It’s not your job to like me, it’s mine.” ~ Byron Katie

I planned to write this post on Thursday and I was going to open my imaginary post with: today has been one of those days. I didn’t manage to post, so I was going to post on Friday and say, yesterday was one of those days. Well, guess what, Friday turned on to be one of those days too and now it is two o’clock in the morning on Saturday…and no post yet! I’ve been hitting some parenting roadblocks lately and having some unpleasant moments with my kids. Moments that I’m not proud of and that feature me crying on the floor in the pile of broken glass (and broken dreams?!) as well as saying harsh things I later regret. Alaina isn’t sleeping well at night and I’m at that point in toddler nursing where I spend more time feeling assaulted than I do feeling warmly bonded. On Thursday, she kept me up until 4:00 a.m. and I felt trapped in a “hell dimension.” However, as is often true of mothering, sweet moments alternate with hell dimensions. That morning as I was trying to finally sneak away from her, she flopped toward me and mumbled in her sleep: babies love em mamas. Yep, they sure do! Earlier this month, she charmed my heart by commenting: “Me love mine daddy Mark.” Taking a couple of steps back shows me that being literally exhausted does not contribute to my parenting reserves and does not, actually, mean I’m a bad parent after all. I’ve been known to tell students in my Child Welfare class that worrying about being a “bad mother” usually means you aren’t one. I need to take my own advice.

So, I identified with this article about the whole notion of “mommy guilt” and how the phrase may actually be a cover for a more insidious and culturally-induced mommy shame:

Just one problem: “mommy guilt” isn’t really guilt at all, but rather shame. And shame, unlike guilt which is a useful and sometimes appropriate emotion, shame is just harmful. Guilt is “I made a bad choice”, while shame is “I am bad”. Guilt is something that helps us to notice when we’ve made an error that we need to correct. Shame makes us feel as though there is nothing we can do to make it better other than change who we are. Of course, changing behaviors is one thing; changing who you are as a person is another (impossible) thing entirely.

via “Mommy Guilt” is a Misnomer – Mothering Community.

I think a lot depends on personality. I know a lot of mothers who do not seem to take things that happen with their kids as personally as I do. Just yesterday, we had an incident during which my boys experienced a catastrophic brain failure and had a mayonnaise fight on the porch front of the house while I was trying to get ready for company. I ended up crying and ranting to myself about my pathetic talents as a parent (because I said something pretty mean to them about their lack of brain-powers). Another friend commented, “let me get this straight: your kids throw mayonnaise around and you’re the one who cries and thinks you did something wrong?” Um, yes, that’s me. I also explain to my students that it is really painful to know better and to watch yourself do it anyway. It stinks. Knowing a lot about the right way to do something, for me, gives me a lot more options of things to feel guilty or bad about! Isn’t that FUN?! As I previously wrote:

Being a mindful mama can be painful.

I am acutely aware of how often I fail, mess up, and let myself down in this work of conscious mothering. When I decide to go through a drive-through after a long day in town, I am very aware of each preservative laden, saturated fat heavy, factory-farmed, non-fair trade bite that crosses our lips. When I’m tired and have low energy for responsive parenting and I say “yes” my boys can watch a DVD, I know I am using it as a “babysitter” and as a “plug-in drug.” I cringe to hear myself say at times, “you guys are driving me crazy!” It is painful to know better and to watch myself do it anyway.

Instead of an inner guide, I too often listen to my inner critic. My judge. The perfect mama that sits on my shoulder and lets me know how often I screw it all up. I laugh sometimes as I reference the invisible panel of “good parents” that sits in my head judging me and finding me lacking.

For me, being a mindful mama is bound up in complicated ways with being a perfect mama; a “good mother.” In this way, it is NOT true mindfulness—I respond to my children based on how I think I should respond, how a “good mindful mama” would respond, not necessarily based on what is actually happening. Too often, I respond as I believe Dr. Sears, Jon Kabat-Zinn, or Marie Winn (The Plug in Drug) thinks I should respond, not based on reality or how we feel in the moment. This is the antithesis of true mindfulness. Mindfulness means an awareness of what is, it does not mean a constant monitoring of how I have failed. If I cannot be flexible and compassionate with myself, how do I expect to be a flexible and compassionate mother?

via Mindful Mama: Presence and Perfectionism in Parenting | Talk Birth.

Though I wrote this essay something like four years ago, I’ve not yet corrected this tendency and my desire to be able to do so, guess what, gives me something else to beat myself up over! I call this, “berating self for self-beratement” and then I berate self for berating self for self-beratement. Repeat. I am an introvert and I do enjoy my own company very much, but sometimes it is mean and mind-twisting company that I keep.

This post initially began because after the previously referenced night trapped in a non-sleeping hell dimension, an entire brand-new jar of organic coconut oil got smashed all over the kitchen floor by Alaina, because I foolishly dared to dash quickly to the bathroom while cooking. While cleaning it up, my other children did not grasp that asking me to tie their bathing suits at the moment was NOT A GOOD IDEA. Enter the mother-crying-on-the-floor-in-pile-of-broken-glass-coconut-oil-and-broken-dreams scenario previously alluded to. The whole experience stemmed from not listening to my own need to go to the freaking bathroom before fixing lunch. Duh. How basic. I just wrote about that this same week. I ran through the shoulding, the scolding, the self-beratement, the catastrophizing, a touch of martyrdom (everything I do is about trying to help my kids and now look!), a touch of guilt-tripping and blame (couldn’t you have noticed and stopped her?!), some yelling, some I can’t believe its, some semi-screaming about how is going to the BATHROOM REALLY SO MUCH TO ASK, some ranting about how coconut oil costs $9 a jar and why don’t I just throw dollars all over the floor and then sweep them into the trash, and then culminating in a hysterical diatribe about “what am I teaching my kids about handling simple little no-big-deal mistake by acting like it is the end of the world? THIS is how you’re going to grow up and think you should handle things.” SOB!!!!!!!!!!!

I read this on Facebook and said oh yeah:

One zen student said, “My teacher is the best. He can go days without eating.”
The second said, “My teacher has so much self-control, he can go days without sleep.”
The third said, “My teacher is so wise that he eats when he’s hungry and sleeps when he’s tired.”

And, I read this too:

If you ever see me out and about with my kids, you might be surprised at some of the interactions you might witness. For example, If you and I were in the same store today, you might have overheard my comment to my son that went something like this: “NO! You can’t!”

It didn’t exactly come out of nowhere; there was context. But that was about the extent of it. There was no empathy, no connection, no acknowledgement of what he wished he could do, no communication of understanding, no “I can tell that you reeeaallly wish you could take that toy home; We’re not getting it, and it’s OK to be sad about that.” Just a snappy, rude no.

If you saw me then and didn’t know me, it might surprise you to learn that I write and teach classes on positive parent-child relations. And if you do know me and saw that little outburst, it might surprise you to see me communicate to my child in this manner. And no matter what you might think of me based on this interaction you may have witnessed today, I won’t be offended. Because…

I know my son.
I know myself.
I know positive parenting.

I know that was not an example of positive parenting.

I know positive parenting is not based on one interaction.
I know my son will be OK.
I know we’ve had plenty of awesome parent-child moments before this one.
I know there will be plenty more.

I know our relationship will be OK.

I know other moms have moments just like this everyday.
I know they’re good moms.
I know I’m a good mom.

I know that in every situation, context matters, judgement never helps, and those moments are just small parts of a larger whole. Fortunately, parenting looks different for everyone and perfect for no one.

Kelly Bartlett

I was heard to lament on Friday afternoon that I worry that I’m a better writer than I am a person. I get complimented on my “lovely words” and “beautiful poems” and I think, how come I can write lovely words and then still yell at my kids? I’m horrible! (The maternal shame card is strong with this one.) And, I reminded myself of something I already wrote:

Womenergy moved humanity across continents, birthed civilization, invented agriculture, conceived of art and writing, pottery, sculpture, and drumming, painted cave walls, raised sacred stones and built Goddess temples. It rises anew during ritual, sacred song, and drumming together. It says She Is Here. I Am Here. You Are Here and We Can Do This. It speaks through women’s hands, bodies, and heartsongs. Felt in hope, in tears, in blood, and in triumph.

via Womenergy (Womanergy) | Talk Birth.

I also came upon a very old partial essay that I wrote when my second son was about two in which I tried to convey the every day, sometimes simultaneous and paradoxical dualism of parenting:

Every day I succeed. Every day I fail.
Every day I listen. And I say, “I can’t listen to you right now” or “PLEASE stop talking.”
Every day I am patient and impatient.
Every day I savor and cherish. And every day I am resentful and frustrated.
Every day I am focused and attentive and also distracted.
Every day I play and every day I say, “I can’t play right now.”
Every day I say yes. And no. Every day I say, “sure, why not?” and also, “now is NOT the time.”
Every day I hug and snuggle. Every day I say, “please stop hanging on me.”
Every day I please and disappoint.
Every day I center and pause appreciatively in the moment. And, every day I rush and hurry.
Every day I watch and notice and every day I say, “not now, I’m busy.”
Every day I am responsive and every day I am frazzled and DONE.
Every day I rise and fall.
Every day I hope and despair.
Every day I am captivated and captive.
Every day I offer guidance and a bad example.
Every day I am consistent and inconsistent.
Every day I make myself proud and I let myself down.
Every day I embrace and pull away.
Every day I am clear and confused.
Every day I am decisive and indecisive.
Every day I am empathetic and “I don’t have time for this!”
Every day I am encouraging and discouraging.
Every day I feel bonded and bound.
Every day I support myself and make myself crazy!
Every day I give and every day I feel completely done giving.
Every day I permit and deny.
Every day I feel a sense of promise and a sense of being denied.
Every day I am calm and exasperated.
Every day I am gentle and harsh.

Every day I hold and tend and nurture and protect.

Every day I am a good mother and every day I am a “bad” mother.

There are no absolutes.

On that coconut oil bad day, I then packed up the kids and went to the river, where they walked adorably in the water together:

Caught crawdads:

And helped each other in ways that warmed my weary and critical heart:

The forced perspective in this one makes me laugh as well as the fact that it kind of looks like she’s carrying two tiny brothers!

But, lest this be a too-tidy wrap-up of my post, while at the river, bugs crawled on our legs, the kids whined a lot, people sat on the cracker sandwiches I was making, the cheese I brought was actually rotten, and we forgot our crawdad catchers and I once again expressed non-positive-parenting sentiments about children’s brain-powers since I had reminded them to get the damn crawdad catchers like 8 billion times. The dualism again.

We got home and got ready for Lann’s tae kwon do class in the whirlwind and as I was about to leave, I saw THIS:

What’s this you say? Here is another look…

Yes, that would be some kind of Ben 10 action figure stuck to my wall with playdoh. WTH?!?!?!?! This is the very same playdoh that I complained about earlier in the day when finding the container empty—“hey guys, where did the playdoh go? Hey guys, can you find that green playdoh, I don’t want it to get stepped on somewhere.” When I saw this, I could only laugh.

And, then we went to watch Lann take his test for a yellow belt. We were adorable as we watched:

Lann did a good job overall…

We went to get ice cream and I was charmed again by the adorableness of my offspring and their friend hanging out:

There are no absolutes

just life as it unfolds

and I watch

and tell about it.

Tuesday Tidbits: Moontime Mojo

Jun25

“I am obsessed with becoming a woman comfortable in her skin.”
— Sandra Cisneros

I know I’ve been focusing on the subject of healthy menstruation a lot lately, but it is has been a persistent interest since my period came back after my last baby. At that time, since we are not planning to have any more children, I realized that I was going to have to redefine my relationship with my cycling body, no longer in the context of planning the next pregnancy. I also had the epiphany of sorts that in not acknowledging or fully experiencing the role of menstruation in my own life as a woman, I have been missing out on an opportunity to connect on a regular basis with one of the core “blood mysteries” of being female—I’ve spent a lot of time on birth and breastfeeding in my life, but my period? Oh, that old thing! I maintain that our attitudes towards our monthly bleeding are reflected in our culture’s attitudes towards birth and breastfeeding—ook! Bloody! Messy! Leaky! Stuff comes out of you! Hide it away! Don’t let anyone see! I shared some of these emerging discoveries and thoughts during my Moontime session at the La Leche League of Missouri conference this month and many women attending expressed similar feelings—that they’d never actually connected the menstrual cycle fully with their experiences of pregnancy, childbirth, and lactation. As I explained to them, as women involved with LLL or birth advocacy we may be well-versed in listening and responding to our bodies when it comes to childbirth and breastfeeding, but many women overlook or minimize the influence menstruation has on their lives. We easily forget that menstruation also provides us with a regular reminder to listen to our bodies, follow their cues, and honor our own wisdom. I’m still working on it in my own life, but I really believe that women benefit from recognizing moontime as a time for rest, retreat, and renewal—a time to re-gather our scattered energy and resources and to emerge with strength and powerful medicine.

A friend came to me recently to ask for resources for her pre-menstrual daughter and said that she wanted something practical to tell her, not just to go sit in a tent, because that sounds nice, but it isn’t realistic in the modern age. And, I thought, but what if it WAS realistic and practical?! I would go so far as to say that perhaps we wouldn’t have such challenges with birth and breastfeeding in our culture if girls were taught that it was normal to need to rest and listen to their bodies once a month rather than to push forward like they’re exactly the same every single day. If this is how we grew up, wouldn’t it then be easier to accept the swell and flow of the energy of birth, to respect the need for rest and renewal during postpartum, and to listen to our bodies’ messages as we learn to breastfeed our babies and fall into sync with the timelessness of life with a newborn and beyond?

(Side note: when I originally chose the quote to open this post, I totally mis-read it and thought it said, “I am obsessed with women becoming comfortable in her own skin” and that is how I feel, but I guess I’m obsessed with it for myself too?)

I just finished reading the book Honoring Menstruation by Lara Own and it was really good. She says:

Our initiation of girls is superficial…how to put on makeup, buying your first bra, using a tampon for the first time. Many women get married and get pregnant without having any sense of their own capacity for endurance, physically or psychologically. Small wonder then than so many girl-women elect to give birth with the aid of painkillers and a technology that robs them of the experience of their own strength…

And she makes a point that I shared during my conference presentation:

As a culture we value stoicism and the overriding of the body. We have schedules, appointments, and timetables which are based on industrial efficiency rather than the moment-to-moment needs of the body. We wait until the end of the meeting to empty our bladders, until the end of the day to eat our main meal. We go to work when we have colds, when we have menstrual cramps, when we have a headache. ‘Not feeling like it’ is seen as a pretty lame excuse.

This is very useful training for all sorts of situations, but not for everything. And there are certain aspects of being female in which stoicism is exactly the opposite of what is required for successful survival. One of the skills of being a woman lies in being very aware of moment-to-moment bodily needs. Being deeply in touch with her body enables a woman to be able to know, and to say, ‘I need this type of food Now,’ ‘I need to rest Now,’ ‘I need to drink Now…’

I’ve previously used the example of listening to the urge to use the bathroom as a core issue in respecting our bodies and preparing for birth. Very, very few people actually go to the bathroom when they first feel the urge, waiting sometimes hours before finally making the time to run to the restroom. If we cannot listen to this simple, basic request from our bodies on a regular basis, can we honestly expect women to magically know how to “listen to their bodies” and give birth to their babies, particularly when we put them in birthing environments that are in many ways designed around overriding bodily requests? (Eating during labor? Sorry, you can just have ice chips. Moving around. Sorry, we can’t monitor the baby well enough like that.) We’ve been trained for years not to listen.

It is easy in today’s world to forget that our menstrual cycle is all about reproduction. Mostly – young women are given information about cleaning up their cycles from tampons to deodorants. Many are given birth control pills which in some cases stops their monthly bleeding all together. There are not many mothers who teach their daughters about the Rhythms of their Cycles – and instill a sense of true self-care and honoring as opposed to a fear of pregnancy, inconvenience and cleaning up. It is important for us to reconsider our relationship with our cycles – and take the time to not only understand our bodies – but connect with our inner compass.

A woman’s monthly cycle has an emotional and sexual landscape whether we are trying to conceive in that month or not. Instead of walking over these natural patterns – let’s try to understand them.

via Listening to our Menstrual Cycle ~ Wild Women Sisterhood.

I also enjoyed this article about Fertility Awareness, which is intimately tied (obviously) to an understanding of menstruation and body rhythms:

…throughout a natural menstrual cycle, hormonal fluctuation can alter a woman’s facial appearance, body odor, waist-to-hip ratio, vocal pitch, mood, habits of dress, and even language. When ovulating, these changes make women more attractive to men because they indicate fertility; in fact, one scientific study I read about later found that strippers have their peak earnings on the days when they are ovulating. These cycles also affect what type of men a woman finds attractive (women tend to be attracted to high testosterone macho types while ovulating and more nurturing men during the rest of the cycle). In short, a woman’s cycles affect how she thinks, how she feels, and how she behaves. Bly explained that our natural cycles are the full expression of ourselves. When a woman takes a birth control pill, which tricks the body into thinking its already pregnant, she is making a bigger change than she may imagine. Beyond obvious side effects like headaches, irritability, and bloating, Bly says, “The birth control pill emotionally flatlines a woman in a way that supports her ability to participate in the workforce, but does not support the ecstatic or transcendent qualities of masculine and feminine union.”

via The Hidden Wisdom of Fertility Awareness | Spirituality & Health Magazine.

And, I downloaded a free ebook about Rediscovering Your Menstrual Mojo from Jo Macdonald. She specifically has resources for mothers and daughters. Check her out!

“Menstruation is an initiatory moment. Women can potentially open to a highly charged altered state, giving them access to a singular kind of power – the power of self-awareness, deep feeling, knowingness, intuition. A power that matures over time with each cycle.”

— Alexandra Pope

Finally, on Facebook recently, I saw this handy reminder card:

Tuesday Tidbits: Wild Woman

Jun18

Women are the most beautiful embodiment of empowered awakening. We breathe life into the world with the heave of our body, sing the sacred into song with our soul, and heal the deepest of wounds with our boundless heart. Our time has come. Love is calling us all to remember the eternal ecstasy of Being. Now is the time. Now is the place. Love is here pressing itself into the moment. Love calls us to remember the universal creative pulse. Love calls all of humanity to its embrace. Love calls for women to claim their deepest truth, to create their greatest gift, and to rise from the ashes of a yesterday gone, to rise to fulfill authentic self. We women are awakening. We women are empowering. We women are rising. I am a woman rising.

~ Ani Kaspar

via Wild Woman Sisterhood on Facebook

This past weekend was the La Leche League of Missouri conference. I absolutely love these conferences and always learn so much, usually things I can use instantly. At this conference, I gave two presentations. The first was about miscarriage and grief and was sparsely attended, but pretty powerful. The second was about Moontime and it was really crowded! The participants were a diverse crowd and I felt a little unsure of my ability to connect with all of them without being excessively “woo woo.” Though, I expressed that concern in a comment on another woman’s blog post and I got this wonderful remark in return: I was just listening to an online interview with Sonia Choquette where she said that “woo woo” should be “where it’s at,” meaning that when we’re “woo woo,” we’re actually connecting to our authentic self, being in touch with our intuition, etc.

I’m going to remember this in the future—woo woo is where it’s at! 😉

Anyway, one of the things I shared during my talk is that mothers of small children are more likely to have PMS than anyone else—it is partly because our bodies call out to us to rest and be alone and we often can’t be when we have little babies that need us. It really, really does help with all pre-menstrual symptoms to be able to take some time to yourself to rest and rejuvenate rather than staying “on” all the time. Several women emailed me with follow-up questions and so here are the links and resources that I suggested for them:

Check out Miranda Gray’s website, particularly her free handouts. Deanna L’am is another favorite resource and she has resources for pre-moontime daughters as well. Oh, and Tisha Lin’s Pleasurable Periods is another good resource as well as The Happy Womb from Lucy Pearce which has a free ebook about having a happy, healthy menstrual cycle. I’ve been digging into this subject a lot over the past year—any posts I’ve written are here. I’m also really liking the book I recently got called Honoring Menstruation by Lara Owen.

Bringing it back to the Wild Woman, I also shared a quote previously shared here:

“…Could it be that women who get wild with rage do so because they are deeply deprived of quiet and alone time, in which to recharge and renew themselves?

Isn’t PMS a wise mechanism designed to remind us of the deep need to withdraw from everyday demands to the serenity of our inner wilderness? Wouldn’t it follow, then, that in the absence of quiet, sacred spaces to withdraw to while we bleed — women express their deprivation with wild or raging behaviors?…” –DeAnna L’am via Occupy Menstruation

And, this book project recently caught my eye: Blood Sister, Moon Mama: a Celebration of Womanly Ways – submissions for a new book

Less related, but cool, I also just downloaded The Creative Joy Workbook (free!) from the incomparable Jennifer Louden.

For me, honoring moontime in my own life is very much about taking it to the body and listening to myself in the way in which I learned to do during pregnancy, birth, postpartum, and lactation. So, I loved this quote I spied on Facebook late last night:

Your body is your own.
This may seem obvious.
But to inhabit your physical self fully,
with no apology, is a true act of power.
This sovereignty over your body may need to be cultivated.
Most of us have been colonized; other people’s ideas, desires,
and expectations have taken hold in our flesh. It takes some time
and effort to reclaim our own terrain.

Own yourself. Say no when you need to.
Only then can you say yes…

– Camille Maurine, Meditation Secrets for Women (via TheGypsyPriestess)

I have read this book and actually have used part of the quote on my own before, but it spoke to me again in this different medium last night.

I’ve also written about the thoroughly embodied act of motherhood and likewise enjoyed this snippet via Facebook as well:

Nitty Gritty Motherhood | Theresa Martin

Motherhood came as quite a shock to me. It was just so… physical. It was often messy and gritty. Without motherhood, I probably could have lived my whole life without being truly present for any of it.

But as I reflect, it seems so much of a female’s life is just so physical.

Take menstruation for example, that first initiation into womanhood. It’s holy and sacred, a reorienting of our bodies from girlhood to womanhood, a constant preparation for the possibility of nourishing new life within us.

Menstruation is that time when we are called to change our focus from “doing” and “completing” to just being and reflecting. We are called to rest and to reevaluate our priorities and to ponder how our lives are going. So while this time is special and sacred, the shocking physical reality remains. I think my girlhood reaction to first learning about menstruation sums it up well: “We bleed?! From THERE!!??”

All of motherhood is no different. There’s that act that causes motherhood in the first place. It’s carnal and messy. Then there’s pregnancy. Like menstruation and sex, it occurs inside my body. I have the experience of housing, protecting, and growing my children until they can breathe for themselves. After that comes labor and birth. Once again, messy, gritty, carnal reality.

~ Theresa Martin, excerpt from “Nitty Gritty Motherhood”

Read more! http://www.newfeminismrising.com/2012/07/nitty-gritty-motherhood.html

Katharine Krueger ~ Journey Of Young Women, Consultant and guide, Girls’ Empowerment and Coming of Age http://JoYW.org/

And, yesterday, I went on my own wild woman adventure picking wild raspberries with my kids. I wrote about it on Pagan Families and included a bonus recipe for wild raspberry sorbet:

…may I be reminded
of the courage and love
shown in small, wild adventures.

Wild black raspberries are ripe at my Missouri homestead and this morning I went on an expedition with my three children to gather what we could. As I returned, red-faced, sweating, and after having yelled much more than I should and having said several things I instantly regretted, I was reminded of something that I manage to forget every year: one definition of insanity is picking wild berries with a toddler. In fact, the closest I ever came to spanking one of my kids was during one of these idyllic romps through the brambles when my second son was three. While still involving some suffering, today’s ramble was easier since I have a nine and a half year old now as well as the toddler. This time, my oldest son took my toddler daughter back inside and gave her a bath and put her in new clothes while I was still outside crawling under the deck in an effort to retrieve the shoes and the tiny ceramic bluebird I’ve had since I was ten that my girl tossed over the railing and into the thorns “for mama.”

While under the deck, I successfully fished out the shoes (could not find the tiny bird) and I found one more small handful of raspberries. Since the kids were all safely indoors, I took my sweaty and scratched up and irritable self and ran down to my small, sacred space in the woods. I was thinking about how I was hot, tired, sweaty, sore, scratched, bloody, worn, and stained from what “should” have been a simple, fun little outing with my children and the above prayer came to my lips. I felt inspired by the idea that parenting involves uncountable numbers of small, wild adventures. I was no longer “just” a mom trying to find raspberries with her kids, I was a raspberry warrior. I braved brambles, swallowed irritations, battled bugs, sweated, swore, argued, struggled, crawled into scary spaces and over rough terrain, lost possessions and let go of the need to find them, and served as a rescuer of others. I gave my blood and body over to the task.

When I returned and showered, my oldest begged for me to make homemade raspberry sorbet with our findings. I’ve never made sorbet before and wasn’t sure I should dare try, but then I gathered my resources and said yes to yet another small adventure…

via Small Adventures (sorbet recipe included there!)

I’ve also been enjoying the wild, riotous blooms of summer:

Rites of Passage… Celebrating Real Women’s Wisdom

May30

“Woman-to-woman help through the rites of passage that are important in every birth has significance not only for the individuals directly involved, but for the whole community. The task in which the women are engaged is political. It forms the warp and weft of society.” –Sheila Kitzinger (Rediscovering Birth)

“I love and respect birth. The body is a temple, it creates its own rites, its own prayers…all we must do is listen. With the labor and birth of my daughter I went so deep down, so far into the underworld that I had to crawl my way out. I did this only by surrendering. I did this by trusting the goddess in my bones. She moved through me and has left her power in me.” ~Lea B., Fairfax, CA via Mama Birth)

Summary of Article: How do today’s women prepare for major life changes such as becoming a mother? Have our once meaningful rites of passage been trivialised, and if so at what cost? Kat Skarbek looks at ways to reclaim what we have lost.

Permission is given to publish this story on the web (thanks to Women’s Mysteries Teacher Circle e-journal).

Without wishing to appear overly dramatic, I think that our society may be in danger of becoming devoid of any important spiritually nourishing rites of passage. Women no longer seem to know how to celebrate important transitions. We have fallen into the horrible habit of treating life-changing events in trite and meaningless ways and as a result, we are cheating ourselves out of the powerful positive effects that these rites of passage can bring us.

For women, menstruation, puberty, marriage, pregnancy & birth, menopause, death – even divorce and separation, all need to be properly acknowledged when passing through these stages of life. Instead we either ignore them completely as in the case of puberty, first menses and divorce, which sends the message that they are both shameful and unworthy of celebration. Or we use the opportunity to get drunk, act like strippers and carry out questionable tasks which would make a sober person question why she would want to get married in the first place – as on your average hen night. At a friend’s baby shower recently I watched with sinking heart as one of the most important events in a woman’s life was celebrated with games involving stealing pegs from other women’s clothing the minute they unconsciously crossed their legs, guessing the baby’s weight and answering questions such as did she have ‘an inney or an outey’ bellybutton? How, I found myself asking, does this in any way prepare a woman to deal with the rigours of labour and birthing and the demands of the first year of motherhood? Why are we so seemingly unaware that our accepted celebrations offer absolutely nothing to women except a bunch of baby clothes? At standard baby showers there is no wisdom shared, no loving support offered and no nourishment given (unless you count cupcakes!).

How did it come to this?

What happened to our once vital and spiritually awakening rites of passage? The easy (and heavily feminist) answer is 500 years or more of patriarchy. Prior to this and from the earliest records of society, it has been apparent that there were very well observed, meaningful and symbolic rituals to mark just about any occasion. Rituals existed for everything from simple agricultural celebrations of the changing seasons and giving thanks for food and supplies, to complex marriage and birthing rituals that eased newlyweds into their new roles and prepared the way for women to birth with dignity and power. Women in particular carried enormous wisdom about the cyclical nature of life and shared nourishing rites of passage, which enabled them to marry in confidence and with awareness, birth without fear and to die with dignity and grace. Once patriarchy became established it began the systematic erasure (or appropriation) of many of these important rites and in particular it diminished the roles and experiences of women so that they went from being important and respected members of their communities, with power over land, name and children to women whose only role was to birth heirs and to be subservient to their men. Even in today’s changing society the roles of ‘wife’ and ‘mother’ are still considered less important than the roles of ‘career woman’ and ‘breadwinner’. We have higher rates of divorce, higher rates of birth intervention and subsequent post-natal depression and more difficult menopauses now than women experienced 50 years ago. I believe that this is directly linked to the fact that we are now expected to just ‘get on with it’ and disappear into these changes without the proper observances being made. I’m not suggesting that women to disappear into mud huts every time they bleed or to give birth in fields as we did in the tribal days, but I do think that we need to pay more attention to our needs at these powerful times of change. Menstruation is not a curse, it’s a promise of our life-giving ability to come. Menopause is not a loss of youth and sex appeal, it’s a vital gateway to the enormous power of our wisdom years. And pregnancy, birth and marriage are life-changing experiences that need to be embraced and celebrated with something more nourishing than ‘Mr December’ and his overstuffed banana hammock.

A graceful acceptance of our changing roles and an awareness of the power that these changes bring, gives us huge personal freedom. Freedom from the current obsession with youth and aging, freedom to explore our new shapes, our new lives and the possibilities they hold. Isn’t that worth exploring?

Reclaiming simple rites of passage

So how can today’s modern goddesses, and in particular mammas-to-be, prepare themselves for life’s many transitions? A good starting point is to create your own rite of passage for whatever transition you may be going through. Pregnant women could change their planned baby shower to a Mother Shower (also known as a Blessingway). Mother Showers celebrate and nurture the mother rather than focusing exclusively on the child and are a growing trend amongst women. They offer pregnant women a chance to honour their pregnancy journey, to enjoy symbolic rituals of preparation for the labour and birthing ahead and indulge in an afternoon of loving, nourishing attention from their closest friends and family. And yes, there are still cupcakes! During one of these afternoons a pregnant woman can expect to be waited on hand and foot – often quite literally. Celebrations often include some kind of pampering for the mamma-to-be such as a foot and hand massage with beautiful, pregnancy-safe essential oils. She might choose to have her belly, hands or feet hennaed as a recognition of her changing status. She might enjoy creating a beautiful ‘labour necklace’ created out of beads gifted by each woman present and blessed with all of their best wishes for a wonderful birth. These necklaces can be used as a powerful focusing tool during the darkest hours of her labour and can become a beautiful heirloom that gets passed on from mother to daughter, or even from woman to woman within her community, with each subsequent pregnancy adding more beads to the necklace.

What you can do

There are a number of meaningful activities that you could include in your celebration. You could even combine elements of a traditional baby shower with elements from a mother shower by adding in any of the following:

A Fear Releasing Ceremony. Writing down your fears on a piece of paper and ritually burning them can help you rid your unconscious mind of any impediments to an easy and positive birth.
Belly Casting. Creating and painting a belly cast (a 3D plaster cast of the beautiful pregnant belly) can be a wonderful meditative tool to connect you more consciously with your body and your baby.
Guided Meditation or Visualisations. If there is a group of you, each woman can place a loving hand on the mamma-to-be, while another guides her into a place of deep relaxation where she can communicate with her unborn child or any guides or angels she feels drawn to, in order to receive information or just reassurance.
Plant a Tree. Buy a beautiful fruit tree to plant in honour of your newborn. You can tie birth blessings and wishes to its branches until after the baby is born.
Give gifts to nurture the mind, body or soul of the mamma-to-be. Most women won’t get the opportunity to enjoy a spot of luxury once the baby is born, so instead of yet more baby clothes why not spoil the mamma with something indulgent such as a pregnancy massage, a hair appointment, a manicure or pedicure or simply some beautiful skin cream to minimise stretchmarks? You can even buy her a gift for after the birth such as a post- natal spa voucher, to give her some ‘me’ time to look forward to when she needs it most.
Share Birthing Stories (no horror stories please!). Poetry, singing or chanting can also be a very uplifting way of connecting with your wise inner goddess.
Create a Phone-Tree. When labour is established, each woman is called and lights a candle for the birthing mamma to re-create the loving circle of support present on the day and send her thoughts of courage and strength.
Provide Nourishing Food and Drink. Each woman present can contribute a meal to be frozen for after the birth.
Pledge an Act of Support for after the Birth. Each woman offers one tangible act of support for after the birth when the mother and child are getting to know one another. It can be something simple like providing a home cooked meal, offering to take care of an older child for an afternoon so that the mamma can get some rest, taking the dog for a walk or taking the newborn off her hands so the she can have a recuperative bath.
The Baby Moon (or a month of ‘lying in’ with the newborn) is still observed in many cultures and offers a chance for the infant and mother to really bond and get to know one another without the usual worries about cooking, cleaning and taking care of other children. I think it would be very beneficial to women to reclaim this particular tradition.

Finding our way back home.

On the day that a baby is born, so too is a mother. Without properly acknowledging our changing lives in these beautiful and memorable ways, we go into motherhood unprepared for the challenges it may bring. No amount of reading can bring you the kind of self-knowledge needed to be a good mother. No amount of beautiful nursery furniture can enable you to trust in your mothering instincts when you are frightened of making a mistake with your precious little bundle. These things all take time. Reclaiming our rites of passage, no matter in how small a way, can help restore to women something vital for their spiritual and emotional wellbeing. And if you are worried that it might be boring or heavy, you needn’t. Celebrations are just that, a joyous coming together of loved ones to honour something wonderful. Keep that in mind and enjoy the many wonderful ways of celebrating this amazing and challenging time in a woman’s life. Choose the things that work for you, that you will enjoy and that will really give you the space to recognise the momentous changes that are happening and offer you some genuine support and acknowledgement of this special time.

More information about alternative pregnancy celebrations can be found in books such as Mother Rising by Yana Cortlund, Barb Lucke and Donna Miller Watelet (OK) and Blessingways, A Guide to Mother-Centred Baby Showers by Shari Maser (OK).
If published on the web please include the following contact details: Website: www.thedivinefeminine.com.au Email: info@thedivinefeminine.com.au Phone: 0439 636 958

Kat Skarbek
www.thedivinefeminine.com.au
About Kat Skarbek…
Kat Skarbek is a writer, presenter of the Shamballa Spirit Show on 3MDR 97.1FM and the Head Honcho of The Divine Feminine (www.thedivinefeminine.com.au) which specialises in creating unique and spiritually nourishing transitional celebrations and events for women. These include alternative Hen Nights and Mother Showers for pregnant women. She is a proud survivor of the first two years of motherhood and a visit from the PND Fairy.
Phone: 0439 636 958
Email: info@thedivinefeminine.com.au

—

Previous posts about rites of passage and women’s mysteries:

Rites of Passage Resources for Daughters & Sons

Birth as a Rite of Passage & ‘Digging Deeper’

Blessingways and the role of ritual

Blessingways / Women’s Programs

Red Tent Resources

Tuesday Tidbits: Postpartum Mothering

May21

Some honest, nitty-gritty, lovely, and poignant looks at motherhood today…

Beautiful print of a babyloss mandala by Amy Swagman. My mom surprised me with this for my birthday after thoughtfully contributing to our Amethyst Network fundraiser and receiving the print as a premium.

First, I very much enjoyed this article about the painfulness many women experience as they transition into motherhood. This may be re-experienced/re-visited with each baby, or perhaps the initial challenge fades into the background of memory, unless you actively acted to preserve it.

…For me, and for many other women, being a new mother is hard. It can be hard in a million different ways: painful physical recovery from a difficult birth, breast-feeding problems, colic, tensions with your partner, sleep problems. It’s also just hard on its own, on top of and in between all these other challenges. As a friend of mine said, “I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t know what ‘hard’ would feel like.” We thought it would be sitcom-style hard—not necessarily with a feel-good resolution at the end of every episode, but at least punctuated by those frequent moments of uplift indicating that, in spite of everything, life really is beautiful, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure it’s like that for some people, but for many of us, it’s not. For many of us, it’s not good hard, as in a “good hard workout”; it’s bad hard, as in, it sometimes feels like something bad is happening to you…

Before I Forget: What Nobody Remembers About New Motherhood – Jody Peltason – The Atlantic.

I recognize that many mothers do not have difficult transitions in postpartum, but I certainly did, and the period of time following the birth of my first baby remains fixed in my own memory one of the most pivotal, painful, challenging, and transformative times of my life as a woman. Perhaps it is more fixed, because I did write about it and the rawness and the struggle is preserved in those words from the past. This article reminds me of my own past thoughts:

When I had my first baby, I would see women who were pregnant and feel almost a sense of grief for them—like, just wait, you have NO idea what is coming. I also told my husband more than once: “this is both more wonderful and more HORRIBLE than I ever could have imagined.” The fear of being thought a “bad mom” is SO powerful that it keeps us quiet about many things. I’ve felt more than once that my kids were “torturing” or me or literally trying to crush my spirit/soul. It sounds horrible to type it out, but that is how I feel sometimes! I’ve also written about how it interesting to feel both captivated AND captive. Bonded and also bound. I discovered that there was a whole new section of women’s rights I hadn’t even been aware of prekids–mother’s rights. I do think many, many women have written about this, but when you start out you feel like you’re the only one whose “daring” to mention the ugly side [she’d also mentioned, “why doesn’t anyone write about this?” Um, they totally do. A lot]. Start reading “momoirs”—they’re a lifeline! So many good ones out there. I have a big collection of them. Oh, and start reading Brain, Child magazine. The best look at real mothering I’ve ever know.

via What to tell a mother-to-be about the realities of mothering…

Postpartum Survival Tips

Birthing the Mother-Writer (or: Playing My Music, or: Postpartum Feelings, Part 1)

Postpartum Thoughts/Feelings, Part 2

Postpartum Feelings, Part 3

“The time of danger, what needs to be survived, comes at different times for mothers. For me, it came early — during my [child]‘s infancy.” ––From Sleeping Beauty & The Fairy Prince: A Modern Retelling By Cassie Premo Steele

Ever since my first child was born over nine years ago, I’ve been talking about writing an article about the tension between choices and that whatever it is you’re doing, you can be blamed for the outcome later—i.e. “you let me co-sleep, and now I have lifelong sleep problem” OR, “you didn’t co-sleep and now I have lifelong abandonment issues!”

So, I appreciated this humorous look at how you’re doing everything wrong:

Everybody’s always trying to figure out how to do it right.

What’s “best” for my children? What can I do to raise the healthiest, most well-adjusted kids possible?

How can I do it “right?”

Well I think we should reframe this whole discussion into a simple recognition that we’re doing it all wrong.

Everything we do, it’s wrong.

Every decision is the wrong decision. And I have proof. Check this out.

via So basically, you’re doing everything wrong always – renegade mothering.

In a happier tone, I very much enjoyed this sweet post about the end of the breastfeeding relationship:

I’m hoping that buried in the corners of my children’s minds, along with all the other lovely things, there are some memories of breastfeeding that will be there all their lives. As for me, it’s not so much a corner of my mind as an overflowing treasure chest.

via Lonely Scribe: Of milk and memories: how my breastfeeding story ends.

I was very grateful for my own breastfeeding relationship last week when we took Alaina in for her dental work under general anesthesia at an outpatient surgery clinic. After it was over, we nursed and nursed and nursed. It was healing and renewing for us both and it meant I didn’t have to worry about her getting enough to eat or drink after being groggy and having a sore mouth. Interestingly, while she was under, we went ahead and had her upper frenulum clipped (I’ve thought for a long time that she had a upper-lip tie) and it has made such a surprising difference in how comfortable it feels to nurse her. I think I had adapted to a low-level of irritation and discomfort throughout the entire two years that I’ve nursed her.

The day after surgery: showing off new teeth (the previously poorly repaired ones WERE able to be saved!) as well as a new baby chick!

The day after surgery: showing off new teeth (the previously poorly repaired ones WERE able to be repaired and saved! I went in thinking we’d be coming home with a [more] toothless girl) as well as a new baby chick!

Birthdays! (and lots of other stuff)

May20

My birthday was at the beginning of this month. I uploaded some pictures and was going to just post a quick post, but then some days passed and then some more days. I added some more pictures and thought of more things to write and it has just been languishing in my drafts folder. Things keep happening and so I think I’ll add a couple more pictures before I post, blah, blah, blah. I almost deleted the whole thing since now May is practically over and my bday was weeks ago, but since I bothering uploading the pix, I’m just going to post it!

May is a busy month for us. It is my birthday and then Mother’s Day and then my mom’s birthday and my dad’s birthday and Zander’s birthday. We also have a whole group of our work party friends who have May birthdays (and playgroup friends too!). May 12th was the 18th anniversary of my first date with my husband. May 16th was the fifteenth anniversary of my college graduation. I feel like I’m getting old! And, it is weird to think about how close that college student girl feels and also how very far away she feels. My parents both turned 60—I had a surprise party/healing ritual for my mom as part of our spring women’s retreat as well as a ceremony for our 12-year-old work party friend whose birthday was the same day. On Mother’s Day, we had a family memorial ceremony for my grandma. In the middle of all these celebrations, I’ve been wrapping up the school session (including grading almost 100 papers…split up in two batches of almost 50), preparing for the summer school session, plotting with Mark about him quitting his job, trying to help motherbabies breastfeed happily, trying to stick with some kind of homeschool “schedule” for my kids (using the term extremely loosely). Oh yeah, and my tiny little sweet daughter also had major dental work under general anesthesia last Tuesday. One of my Facebook friends pointed out that no wonder I’ve been feeling taxed. Yeah, duh. I don’t know why I can’t extend myself that grace. Instead, I’ve been berating myself at various intervals about my “inability” to handle it all. I’ve also been planning our big trip to California. $2300 later and WAY too many hours thinking, checking, and strategizing, I ended up with five plane tickets and we’re going. We decided to to go ahead and make a full vacation out of it—Disneyland, tourmaline mining, Legoland, and Pismo Beach! My grandma’s committal service (which I am planning and facilitating) and her celebration of life luncheon is in Fresno in the middle of our trip.

This week as I tried to finish those last bleeping papers, I found out that I’d made a mistake with our plane tickets—having a p.m. flight from San Diego to Fresno rather than the a.m. flight I thought we had. I almost lost it. Flipped out. I’m serious. I felt like I had officially exceeded my actual ability to cope and that I may possibly break down in some way. More. Than. Humanly. Possible. To. Handle. As it was, we made the semi-bizarre choice to just buy some new tickets that restored the “rightful” a.m. flight schedule. These middle-of-the-journey tickets were only $68 each and we decided it was really a fairly trivial amount and we should just do it. We’re taking our family of five to CA with carry-on luggage only and we’re packing like a boss! Seriously, we’re rocking this thing.

Oh, and just this afternoon I also finished my twelfth class for my D.Min degree. I’ve got about 14 left, plus my dissertation. I have three in progress and signed up for two more to start during the summer session. How do I do it?!?!? Heck if I know. 😉 Maybe it is time to feel impressed at my own capacities again rather than mad at myself for not getting more done, for being “behind,” for staying up too late, for taking too long to return phone calls, for leaving some emails unanswered and books unreviewed, for being sometimes short-tempered, for screwing up a.m. and p.m., for not getting around to the blog posts I’d hoped to write, for not keeping up with requests for new sculptures, for not having a birthday surprise of some kind for my dad too, and for never feeling “finished” enough to rest.

Here is what I originally swiped from my Facebook to share about my birthday:

Uh oh. I spent the first 8 minutes of my 35th year still working on these dang bibliographies. This has been my worst/least productive grading stint yet (the CA trip planning/purchasing ate up my usual “free” day). I’m determined to have a FREE day tomorrow (okay, technically, today, but it doesn’t count until I go to bed!)–I’m going to wallow around in books and listen to guided meditations (you know, with the three kids climbing on me!) and plan rituals and celebrations and not do anything I don’t feel like doing 🙂

It is SO flipping hard to focus on grading these bibliographies when my brain is turning over Disneyland plans, hotel reservations, car rental, and also finding just the *right* stuff for my grandma’s memorial service. The good news is that I have some really rocking students this session and they make some of the grading easy!

—

Later update:

Thirty-four years ago I was born! As my birthday present to myself, I DID manage to finish grading the last bibliographies and I’m taking the day off to hang around and wallow in books. I think I might do a tech-off day (or, at least, a class-off day!) Oh, and I bought two tiny little Japanese dolls for myself at Goodwill too. I do birthdays right!

When I wake up and hear rainfall on my birthday I always feel like the planet is wishing me a happy birthday too (there was a heavy rainstorm the day I was born). Alaina told me I should have a cake with “nonnie babies” on it. On my actual birthday, my mom took me to a tea room in a neighboring town for a birthday lunch and then I came home with three kinds of tea and the kids and I had a tea party! (in many ways an excuse to eat sugar cubes and this involves sort of obsessive negotiation over them rather than just enjoying ourselves!) I asked the boys if they would play with Alaina so I could have an easier time getting ready to go. After about ten minutes, Lann said, “whew, she’s pretty much like an energy tick.” I rolled! I love having a nine-year-old and a toddler. So much different and easier than having a toddler and a preschooler was.

Okay, so here is a gallery of the pictures I meant to post on several occasions, plus some more I just added in today:

: Birthday rosebush from my good friend!

: Kids and I have a sort-of-fun tea party after my birthday lunch.

: Alaina became obsessed with this mother-baby butterfly card from The Mother’s Wisdom deck. She really, really wanted to be able to “hold. dat. bufly. baby.”

: Birthday sculpture by Zander already shared in prior post.

: Mark made me a nifty necklace with a lobster claw where a pendant would usually go, so that I can swap out central pendants at will, or layer multiples together like I did with these two beauties that I also got for my birthday.

: Tiniest Shaker carrier ever! My dad made this for me.

: Sculpture by Lann for my birthday (shared in prior post).

: Mini Shaker box and carrier by my dad.

: Little Japanese dolls from Goodwill—one has a baby inside! (they both are supposed to, but one is missing)

: Stonehenge necklace from myself.

: Bracelet of awesomeness.

: Mark surprised me with this cool bronze Artemis statue.

: Birthday rosebush, Hathor, and tiny crocheted Goddess of Willendorf

: The tinest crocheted Goddess of Willendorf by my talented mother. She is the coolest.

: Lunch at the adorable little tea room in Licking, MO.

: First attempt at the crocheted goddess.

: Second attempt.

: Hathor—I requested her because she was described as “Goddess for the Exhausted.”

: Lilacs bloomed! Oh wait…this was the ONLY flower on the whole bush.

: My friend helped me plant elderberry plants during the work party we had at our house the day after my birthday.

: Alaina scoping out the amazing progress the work party made on the aquaponics system in the greenhouse.

: How much work is it to get 12 people arranged for a group photo with a timer cam app after having a memorial ceremony?

: Actually, only two shots and we look amazing, if I do say so myself (my timer cam app and that is why I’m crammed in with awkward legs).

: Baby chicks hatched on Mother’s Day. Me loves ’em!

: Alaina loves them too!

: Another good friend made and embroidered this shirt and jumper for one of my dolls. I love it! No one has made me doll clothes since my grandma used to. Isn’t she cute? My friend said it was from her inner child to mine 🙂

: Curly-haired cutie playing at the river during a friend’s birthday party.

: Arranging “tools.”

: The memorial blue hydrangea we planted for my grandma.

: The day after surgery: showing off new teeth (the previously poorly repaired ones WERE able to be saved!) as well as a new baby chick!

: Beautiful print of a babyloss mandala by Amy Swagman. My mom surprised me with this for my birthday after thoughtfully contributing to our Amethyst Network fundraiser and receiving the print as a premium.

: I took this picture of my precious, sacred overlook in the woods, so that I can look at it while traveling.

: Lann finished his first year of gymnastics and got a medal at their spring show!

: This one almost makes me cry–it was amazing to see his confidence increase over the past year and I feel like a “good” homeschooling mom to be taking him to classes based on his own interests. I also think it is really good for him to interact with and develop relationships with people outside of my direct scrutiny.

: Set of trading cards Lann drew for me for Mother’s Day.

: My sad little groggy post-surgical sweetie.

: Right before going in for her dental work.

: Maiden threshold cord.

: Spring motherhood and healing altar set up for our spring women’s retreat.

: While we were having ceremonies, Alaina was chilling at the river with our friends. When I saw this picture via text, I also felt like crying to see my big girl!

: Right after the close of the healing cermeony/birthday ritual for my mom.

: Just today we had a substitute birthday for Zander since we will be gone on his actual birthday (embarking on that screwed up time San Diego to Fresno flight…twice if we want to!)

: For his birthday party, I ordered movie makeup supplies ala Face Off and Alaina jumped in on the action and made herself have a “ceepy arm.”

: Zander working on putting makeup onto his latex scar (not pre-made, we made them from scratch with liquid latex!)

: This is a bad close-eye special, but I had to include it because I was so proud of my first foray into “special effects” makeup. I do not have enough talent to take this show on the road, but I was stil happy with how it turned out.

: Zander’s scar and make up work looked amazing!

: And, so did Lann’s!

: And, I gifted myself with (yes, *another*) new ring. This one (the one with the malachite stone on my ring finger) is a “travel” ring present for myself to ease my jitters at traveling away from my beautiful home and woods.

Repost: How I learned to mother myself

May16

One of my very favorite books for mothers is The Mother’s Guide to Self-Renewal by Renée Trudeau (past posts referencing her are here). I also enjoy her digital newsletter. While it is a bit after the fact now, I’m reposting her Mother’s Day article about how she learned to listen to her Wise Self. As I wrap up the school session, prepare to travel, keep up with my blogs, plan rituals, attempt to halfway manage to keep up with the classes I’m taking, and mother my children, I need all the reminders I can get about self-care! (Speaking of mothers, self-care, and Mother’s Day, I also very much enjoyed this lovely blessing from Shiloh Sophia: A Mama Day Blessing for All Kinds of Mothering | Our Lady of the Red Thread.)

How I learned to mother myself

by Renée Trudeau

There’s been a lot of belly button gazing in our house this past week. My adolescent son told me on Friday, “I’m thinking a lot about my life right now,” my introspective husband is taking a class where he’s contemplating our relationship to the cosmos and having just returned from teaching at the ethereal Esalen Institute in Big Sur, CA and the redwood forests, I’m reflecting on my how much my self-care practice has affected my relationship with my husband (read more) …. and myself.

My beloved and I are celebrating our 13-year wedding anniversary this Tuesday and while we still two-step with our respective issues, it seems we’re becoming more accepting and gentle with another, as we slowly become more compassionate and kind to ourselves.

But it’s been a long road.

I have a visceral recollection of the day, ten years ago, when my husband returned to work after being home with me and our newborn for two weeks. Sitting in our dark, quiet kitchen, holding my baby boy, listening to the kitchen clock tick, and blanketed in a postpartum haze, I thought, “This is it. I’m all alone.” It was a frightening and devastating realization, and I have never felt the absence of maternal nurturing more than I did then. But then, I heard a comforting voice whisper from within, “Renee, it’s time to start mothering yourself.”

That moment was a catalyst for me and the beginning of my journey to learning to both nurture and nourish myself.

For years, I didn’t even know what I needed (self-care, what’s that?!). I was so habituated to the seduction of productivity, to going non-stop, to value “doing over being,” to allowing my internal state to be dependent upon the external world and to tying my self-worth to my latest win. But as I began to tune inward and become reacquainted with my desires—my love of nature, my need to be fed by beauty/art and dance, my passion for nurturing my body through vibrant natural cooking—and watched my own commitment to my well-being grow each day, I began to see the ripple effect this had on my family, my friends and beyond. (Hear how this evolved.)

Learning to mother myself has evolved into a thirteen-year journey to not only becoming my own best friend, but to living a soulful, vibrant awakened life. At times, I am ferocious, radical and even willing to p*** people off in order to stay in integrity with “her”—what I call my Wise Self. And I found that once I opened up and walked through the doors of self–care, I was gently brought to the path of self-compassion, then self-acceptance and eventually to self-love. It’s been long and slow. But this deeply spiritual practice of self-care has changed my life more than any other.

Now as I move steadily into the second half of my sweet, unpredictable life, holding hands and moving forward–sometimes tentatively–with my kind, tender soul, I leave behind who I thought I was in order to fully welcome who I am becoming. Warts and all. And I watch my love and acceptance for this beautiful, sometimes controlling and perfectionististic usually compassionate and generous woman grow more each day.

Self-care has gone beyond learning to attune and respond to my physical, emotional and intellectual needs and desires—it’s how I nurture my soul—my very essence. And it’s how I not only celebrate the incredible gift of being in this amazing body and having the gift of this beautiful life— it’s how I remember who I really am.

—
You may reprint this newsletter in its entirety provided you include at the end: Renée Peterson Trudeau is a life balance coach/speaker and author of The Mother’s Guide to Self-Renewal and Nurturing the Soul of Your Family. You can download free book chapters, receive life balance tips or learn about upcoming events at www.ReneeTrudeau.com. On Facebook at: LiveInsideOut.

Subscribe here to receive Renée’s life balance newsletter.

Tuesday Tidbits: Red Tent

Apr23

Dogwoods are blooming here.

“..by honouring the demands of our bleeding, our blood gives us something in return. The crazed bitch from irritation hell recedes. In her place arises a side of ourselves with whom we may not-at first- be comfortable. She is a vulnerable, highly perceptive genius who can ponder a given issue and take her world by storm. When we’re quiet and bleeding, we stumble upon solutions to dilemmas that’ve been bugging us all month. Inspiration hits and moments of epiphany rumba ‘cross de tundra of our senses…”
― Inga Muscio

“The great mother whom we call Innana gave a gift to woman that is not known among men, and this is the secret of blood. The flow at the dark of the moon, the healing blood of the moon’s birth – to men, this is flux and distemper, bother and pain. They imagine we suffer and consider themselves lucky…In the red tent, the truth is known. In the red tent, where days pass like a gentle stream, as the gift of Innana courses through us, cleansing the body of last month’s death, preparing the body to receive the new month’s life, women give thanks — for repose and restoration, for the knowledge that life comes from between our legs, and that life costs blood.”
― Anita Diamant

I have to be quick today—lots going on. I don’t know if anyone else is enjoying my little Tuesday Tidbits post series particularly, but I really love doing it, because it gives me an automatic structure for a post, a sense of focus rather than an open book of endless possibility, and also the ability to put something up quickly even admidst life swirls. And, I find it funny how things collect around a theme without me consciously trying to do so. What collected around me during the past week was Red Tent Resources again…

First, a short video about starting a Red Tent:

Then, this cool Lunation website where you can subscribe to a newsletter and receive a free guided meditation called Connect to the Red Threads.

And, I enjoyed an article called Menstrually Yours – Women Can Map Periods as a Path to Self-Awareness.

This article uses the same “seasons” metaphor for understanding the energy of your cycle that a lot of menstrual empowerment activists are using. This seasons idea has helped me find an enhanced place of understanding about my own ebb and flow of energy, enthusiasm, and creativity.

Winter is the first stage, when we bleed. Characteristically it’s the time of wanting to hibernate (or just hide under a duvet and eat chocolate). We are withdrawn and inward and it’s tough to focus and find a lot of energy, contrary to the images forced on us by the Bodyform adverts.

Spring is the week after when the bleeding has stopped and we suddenly feel more energised and sociable. We want to get on and often we get stuff done quickly and with grace and ease.

Summer is characterised by our really coming into fullness, it’s when we are ovulating and energetically we are fully blooming and really advancing.

Autumn is when we start the decline back into ourselves. Typically now we may experience some PMT, being a bit snappy or less tolerant than we were in spring and summer.

via Claire Snowdon-Darling: Menstrually Yours – Women Can Map Periods as a Path to Self-Awareness.

What I find transformative about this understanding is the acceptance that comes from realizing what season I’m in and knowing that a new season is coming. Rather than get frustrated with myself during “autumn” or winter, thinking it means a permanent state of being, I say, “ah ha! This sense of needing to pull in and retreat. I know this. Time to break out some of those saved guided meditations, say no to things I can say no to, and sit down with a book and some tea.” Just a few months ago, I would have taken this impulse as a sign that my life is too crowded and I MUST. QUIT. SOMETHING. NOW. THINGS. MUST CHANGE. ARGHHHH. NO MORE! Now, I see that it is just a call for right now, for this little season, not a permanent change, just an honoring of body rhythms. Interestingly, I’m actually in the summer stage of my own cycle right now, which is the time I usually wait for and get a bunch of “stuff done” and scheduled to post so that when I feel withdrawn again, my blog can go on on its own. However, with my grandma’s dying process and my mom’s absence while she cares for my grandma in California, I actually feel extremely “autumn” right now and would like nothing better than to just lie down with a book and STOP. My kids and my students all need attention though.

And, I enjoyed this cool website too:

Birthing Art Birthing Heart is a website

that promotes, facilitates and offers examples of art made by woman.

Birthing Art Birthing Heart offers new ways for woman to explore what they are ‘birthing’ at any given moment.

via Birthing Art – Birthing Heart – Home.

Bringing it into the Red Tent theme, they have a current project called Bleeding Art, Bleeding Heart too.

Speaking of art, though it isn’t finished yet, I made a couple of new pieces about my grandma. This is the first one:

The shells were supposed to be a spiral, not a “6,” but on such a small surface, I couldn’t spiral them any better.

Related past posts:

Red Tent Resources

Book Review: Moon Time

Moontime’s Return…

Blog Circle: Tender Mercies, Unexpected Gifts

Apr18

The Amethyst Network blog circle for April is on the subject of Tender Mercies:

Blessings, Magic, Tender Mercies, Grace, whatever you call it, there are these moments, times and experience of light in the darkness. Sometimes they are very small. Just a moment where you see a little bit of magic, or a blessing wrapped in the grief. Sometimes it is significant, like close friendships made with people you may never have had the chance to meet otherwise.

For our Blog Circle this month (April) please share your own experiences of grace, tender mercies, magic, blessings, or gifts that your miscarriage has given you. If you have not experienced a miscarriage, please feel free to participate. We all know someone who has miscarried and therefore have been touched by miscarriage in some way.

via April Blog Circle ~ Blessings, Magic, Tender Mercies, Grace… » The Amethyst Network.

As soon as this theme was picked, I knew what I wanted to write about. It was the experience of an unexpected gift from my little baby Noah. It was one of the only moments of “communication” I ever felt from him after his death-birth. I sort of expected or hoped to have some dreams or some other sorts of “metaphysical” sorts of experiences with him, but I didn’t have that, he was simply gone. I did, however, have this one little gift (originally posted about on August 11, 2010)…

This past weekend [August, 2010]…We went to visit my friend M whose baby recently died and was born at a similar gestation point to Noah. While we were there, she showed us the memory box she’d put together for her baby and then she brought out the folder she’d received from Angel Whispers (source of the birth certificate that I got for Noah and that I like so much). She held it out to me silently, and printed on the front was, “this folder was made possible by a donation in memory of sweet baby Noah Remer, November 7, 2009.” Oh. My. Goodness. How could it be that I made a donation to Angel Whispers back in May ([2010] for my due date), the check traveling all the way to Canada, and yet, this folder somehow finding its way back into my life and into the hands of my dear, grieving friend? It was an amazing feeling.

I sent a donation to cover three folders. I wonder who has received the other two? We came up with all kinds of possible reasons for this “coincidence,” but none of them were very logical (she lives in IL, I live in MO-–it isn’t like they saw our addresses and though, “ah ha! We’ll send this one!”) and we were left with the only option to be just to marvel at this simple little gift.

In more current tender mercies, Noah’s memorial tulip tree is about to bloom!

It is in a shaded area behind the house and thus is a little off-schedule from the rest of the trees like this in the area. My parents have a matching tree and theirs is fully blooming now:

Seeing these flowers each year is really meaningful to me and that’s why I used a photo of the flowers as the cover image on my miscarriage memoir. Thinking about this post made me dig around in my archived photos where I found some not-often-before-shared photos of the ritual my mom and friends had for me near my birthday (Noah’s due date), during which we planted said tulip tree. Under the tree I buried the embryo from my second miscarriage and also the hospital bracelet from my ER trip following Noah’s birth. At the time of these photos I was tentatively hoping I might possibly be pregnant again and, in fact, I was justatinybitpregnant with the future Alaina!